


We should talk about it

by TinyThoughts



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: I Like Kissing, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, No beta we die like stregobor should, Pining, almost, and a hint of steamy, and geralt is a big witcher who uses his words, because they are so bad at talking, but it is mostly fluff and kissing, but look at them go, but they are kinda bad at it aren't they, its a lil... angsty? kinda?, ok appearently a lot of steamy, they should talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29617818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyThoughts/pseuds/TinyThoughts
Summary: Geralt walks in the room, closes the door behind him, and leans back at it. He looks at the floor for a moment, and then up at Jaskier.That can’t be good.Jaskier sits on the floor leaning back on the bed while writing. His heartbeat picks up when his eyes meet Geralts. A nervous flutter that has always been there but gotten worse just these last few days.“We should talk about it.” Geralt says.Fuck.“About what?” Jaskier feigns ignorance, buying worthless time as his mind races for ways to avoid this exact conversation, like he has for days now.“The kiss.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 19
Kudos: 179





	We should talk about it

**Author's Note:**

> Because Im having a bad night and I had this kinda done in my drafts and it is time it sees the light.   
> Please enjoy!

Geralt walks in the room, closes the door behind him, and leans back at it.

He looks at the floor for a moment, and then up at Jaskier. That can’t be good.

Jaskier sits on the floor leaning back on the bed while writing. His heartbeat picks up when his eyes meet Geralts. A nervous flutter that has always been there but gotten worse just these last few days.

“We should talk about it.” Geralt says.

Fuck.

“About what?” Jaskier feigns ignorance, buying worthless time as his mind races for ways to avoid this exact conversation, like he has for days now.

“The kiss.”

 _Fuck_.

It’s hard to look at Geralt now, to meet his eyes, so he looks down into his writings again, finding comfort in his own words. He writes down things he wishes to hide, to rework them and pretty them up a little.

“Uhm… Why?” He asks, fiddling with the edge of the paper. Stupid question, he could kick himself.

“Because you are obviously bothered by it.”

Shit shit shit why does Geralt always pick up on the wrong things at the wrong time?

Flirt openly with the man for years, get over it, and then this, and now the fool realizes somethings afoot?

“I'm not bothered.” Jaskier lies.

Geralt hasn’t moved from where he’s leaning on the door. A good and a bad sign. Good for giving him space, bad for Jaskiers heart.

“You have been avoiding me.”

Now Jaskier has to look up at him with a look of disbelief. Half truths then.

“We are literally sharing a room.” Jaskier deadpans.

He is a good actor, but Geralt's nose is a worthy opponent.

“You know what I mean.” Geralt keeps staring at him, and yes, well.

“I’m not sure I do. What am I doing, or rather not doing, to make you think I'm avoiding you?” Jaskier asks. It is sweet that Geralt has noticed, but really, again, so slow.

“You don’t… touch me anymore.” Geralt sounds strangled. “I know we just kissed to throw them off, but it is obviously bothering you and I- hm.”’ Ah, the _Hmm_. “I'm sorry. You are my best friend and I don’t want to lose you.”

Jaskiers jaw drops. Of all the things he expected, it was not that.

“I- No. Geralt, we did what we had to.” Jaskier says, and he is aching inside.

It was slightly more than they actually had needed to.

Geralt had grabbed his chin, eyes burning and Jaskier was helpless. Parted his lips, moan caught in Geralt's mouth as he got pushed against the wall. Their pursuers disappeared, but they lingered. And Jaskier can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop himself from wanting more.

“I'm still sorry. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me.” Geralt says. He looks so earnest, and Jaskier can’t take it anymore.

Giving his writing, his escape, a mournful look he rises up and dust off his knees.

“I’m not.” Ah fuck. Here he goes. “I’m uncomfortable around myself, to be completely honest.”

They look at each other from across the room, trying to read the other. Jaskiers heart is beating hard, what he is about to say might fuck things up irrevokeably.

“I liked it.” Jaskier confesses quietly. Complete and utter silence.

Jaskiers cheeks burn, and he fears what might happen.

“You don’t have to lie.” Geralt says, smiles kindly. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“I'm not.”

“I can smell your fear. And you like all kisses.”

Jaskier makes an exasperated motion with his arms. Damn take this man's insecurities and toss them in the deepest fucking hole.

“Mothers take me, Geralt, I’m not lying. I liked your kiss. I'm scared because I want _more_!”

There it is. There is his doom.

Jaskier feels out of breath, like all that running finally caught up with him. Geralt looks at him with disbelief.

“You-?”

“Yes!” Jaskier sighs, and starts pacing the room, mindful of his work on the floor. “Whatever you think, I don’t like all kisses. I like- yours, ok?”

Jaskier is working himself up into a full rant, arms flailing around. Geralt takes a step forward, catching Jaskiers hand in his.

“So why did you avoid me?” Geralt asks quietly, and Jaskier smiles sadly.

“I value our friendship higher than any kiss.”

“But you _liked_ it?” Geralt asks again, and takes another step closer.

Jaskier can’t breathe, suddenly he feels like he is burning, like someone is squeezing around his chest.

“I did.” He says again, allowing himself to feel, to hope, to want. Geralt's hand is big around his, warm and a little sweaty. Is Geralt nervous?

“We could do it again.” Geralt says lowly, and oh. That’s a thought indeed.

This time Jaskier is the one who steps closer, all his thoughts in a hopeless jumble.

“We could.” He agrees, slipping his hand out of Geralt to put them at his sides, steadying himself. Geralt feels warm under his hands, real. There is not enough air in the room, his knees are like jelly. When Geralt puts one hand on his lower back and one under his chin and tilts Jaskiers face up.

Up, in that tantalizing angle where they just hover, inches away from each other, breaths mingling.

Jaskier can feel his heartbeat jump in his throat, feel every point of contact like a burn, his eyes fall shut and his lips open to let out a small puff of fluttery feelings.

Geralt surprises him, warm lips connecting just between his ear and jaw. A small and slightly embarrassing sound escapes him, and he leans forward in search for more contact. Geralt allows it, pressing them closer together as he presses hot, open kisses to the soft skin there.

Jaskier angles his head to allow him more room, barely believing this is happening.

“Geralt” he says. “ _Please_.” He says.

He is not sure himself what he is asking for, but Geralt seems to feel the same. He lifts his head from Jaskiers neck, nose dragging against Jaskiers cheek until they do that terrible hover again.

If Jaskier wasn’t desperate for Geralt to take the initiative, to really prove that _he_ wants this, he would do something about it.

But for now he will have to swallow heavily, lick those suddenly very dry lips and hope Geralt will do something soon.

Jaskier never knew what a fucking tease Geralt was, but he is starting to learn.

Finally, finally, Geralt closes the distance, kissing on Jaskiers lower lip, and Jaskier is trying to decide if this feeling is more like dying or like flying. His stomach swoops, it tingles all the way out in his fingertips, and he grabs a hold of Geralt's tunic, holding him close. He could cry, he could laugh, but what he does is moan.

Geralt leans into him even more, taking the opportunity to lick between his parted lips. All too soon Geralt pulls back, and Jaskiers lips already feel lonely.

They press their foreheads together, breathing the same air for a few heartbeats.

“Still like it?” Geralt asks, the bastard.

“No. You should try again.” Jaskier says, because he can be a bastard too.

**Author's Note:**

> Im Dapandapod at Tumblr!  
> Come say hi!


End file.
